


Better Use

by Messrs_Mooney_Prongs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Annoyance, Excessive Need Of Water, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Sexual Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messrs_Mooney_Prongs/pseuds/Messrs_Mooney_Prongs
Summary: "Besides, there are five other uses that you could be doing with your mouth that would make both of us happy so do us all a favour and shut. The fuck. Up.”"Oho?"Wellshit.





	Better Use

“Will. You. Shut. _Up_!” Tsukishima emphasized each word with his fist, hitting the wall with each word. 

It didn’t work, the shrill sound of his god awful neighbour singing just _increased_ in volume, and, if Tsukishima wasn’t wrong, seemed to be even _more_ off key than before. Was he laughing too? 

That thoughtless, indignant, arrogant, bitch ass, douche canoe!

Tsukishima groaned as he walked over to his stereo, turning the thing off and grabbing his headphones and device. He quickly shoved his headphones over his ears and turned on his music before curling back up against his couch and in front of his coffee table, flipping his text book back open. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, attempting to calm himself, and began re reading the same paragraph for the – what? – millionth time, honestly, he’d lost count.

He swallowed the insult that jumped to his lips when a particularly loud note that _did not_ come from his iPod broke through his _noise cancelling_ headphones. No. Nope, he wasn’t going to get up. He wasn’t going to bang on the wall again. Nope. He was going to sit here and he was going to get through this chapter. He was going to study god damn it! 

It had been weeks, months, years, – okay, it had been forty-eight days – of listening to him, of hearing him.

Hearing him move boxes and furniture into the apartment.

Hearing him shuffle all his items as he made the space habitable.

Hearing him living.

It had been forty six days since coming home to an envelope taped to his door, ‘Hello there neighbour!’ it had read. Tsukishima had opened it, unfolded the paper and scanned the first few words. A party, a _house warming_ party. It had been forty six days since he tore up said letter.

Tsukishima opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – and ran his tongue over his teeth as he breathed through his nose. Read, just read and get through it. He clicked the side buttons on his iPod, increasing the volume, and looked back down at his text book, scanning it for the place he had left off. His eyes scanned over the words, had he even taken anything in? Tsukishima sighed, and began the paragraph over. Again.

Tsukishima actually smiled to himself when he managed to make it to the next page, flipping the page and smoothing it down as he began reading the first line and then he was no longer smiling. 

An eardrum rupturing, mind splicing, god awful _squeal_ , of all things.

“You little shit!” he seethed to himself, sliding the headphones that apparently did _not_ work off his ears and pushed the book away from himself as he stood from his spot on the floor. 

_Ugh_ , he could hear him! The sound permeating through their separating wall and into Tsukishima’s apartment like it had been doing for the past month! His ability to study had started to wane, his once quiet and peaceful apartment now only a source crude and unusual punishment. He had tried the library, unsuccessfully so. He couldn’t think past the people getting up and down from their seats, talking in their little groups, and pulling Tsukishima’s eyes away from his text with each and every little movement. 

So instead, Tsukishima had taken to holding himself up in his apartment with no distractions except the music he had grown to love. It had been perfect.  
Until now.

Tsukishima threw open his door, letting it slam shut behind him; who cared who else heard? He took the fifteen steps to his neighbour’s door, his hands held in fists at his side and his teeth gritted against all the words just waiting to poor from his lips.

He knocked on the door, once, twice, three times, and waited. He knocked again, quicker this time, added his other hand and was practically beating down the door until finally, _finally_ , it was thrown open and he nearly punched the guy in the face. And that was not a mistake Tsukishima wanted to make.

Tsukishima’s mouth went dry. He tried to lick his lips, tried to wet them but his mouth was just so, _so_ dry. 

Tsukishima’s eyes racked the boy up and down in all his dishevelled glory, like okay yeah, he was trying but it was essentially effortless. He was tall, as tall as Tsukishima but where Tsukishima was limbs made of bones he was muscle, muscle that had obviously taken years sewn by athleticism to obtain. His hair was atrocious; the short black locks sticking up in each and every direction, some falling into his face. He was wearing a black tee; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the dark material a nice contrast against his tanned skin making it look even darker. He was all that, and then his eyes. They caught Tsukishima, pulled him in until he was drowning but not by water, not by an ocean or lake or river. He was drowning in the black obsidian abyss, held captive by their depths. He wanted to see them at a closer range, see if they would reflect the nights sky. He wanted to see them in different angles, preferably above him, and see himself reflected in their depths.

Tsukishima licked at his dry lips; he was _thirsty_ , and he didn't think water would do the trick.

Tsukishima watched as the boy raised his brows at him, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head boyishly, “Uh, hi. Can I help you with something?”

And it all came shattering down. 

Tsukishima scrunched his nose at the sound of the boy’s voice. It was nicer, at a lower volume, but he still recognized it for what it was. The source of his displeasure. 

Tsukishima rearranged his face, letting a smile – obviously fake – stretch across his lips, “Hi. You know that sound your making? With your mouth?” he watched as the other boys brows furrowed, “Yeah, that’s called noise pollution. So, if you could stop trying to tear my ear drums out with your shitty singing, I would really appreciate it. Besides, there are five other uses that you could be doing with your mouth that would make both of us happy so do us all a favour and shut. The fuck. Up.”

Tsukishima watched as at first the others eyes widened before a sly smile slid its way onto the boy’s lips, watched as he leaned back against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest, the action causing his biceps to flex which, in turn, caused Tsukishima’s mouth to salivate. 

“Oho?” he raised his brows at Tsukishima, the corner of his lips still quirked up as his eyes travelled over Tsukishima’s body.

Well shit.

Tsukishima had never been blatantly open with his sexuality; his family knew, he close friends knew and, okay, maybe that guy who worked down at the coffee shop who continuously flirted with him knew, but that was the extent of the list. His whole body began to heat up, began to burn as red licked its way over skin until he was brighter than a stop light.

The boy nodded his head at Tsukishima, “Feel like elaborating on those five other uses?” he smirked at him, at a normal volume his voice was pleasant, smooth, suggestive. Like Tsukishima might like it saying, or rather gasping, his name.

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at him behind his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he attempted to cover the blush radiating across his cheeks, he would be damned if he gave anything away to the idiot in front of him, “Why don’t you attempt to use some brain cells, at least those you haven’t killed, and figure it out yourself, hmm?”

He stepped back away from the door, away from the raven haired boy, and turned to head back to his own apartment, to study, definitely to study, but he was caught off guard when the other held up a hand; his thumb and index the only two digits visible.

“Well, you see I can easily think what number five, four and three are,” he winked at Tsukishima as he wiggled his two fingers at him, “But I’m having difficulty with one and two, might need a hand with those,” Tsukishima watched – slightly transfixed – as his shoulders shook and he chuckled at his own joke, “Get it? Hand?” he waved the hand he was holding up at Tsukishima.

Who was this dude? Was he a fucking infant? Tsukishima gave him deadpan stare before turning fully around and walking back to his apartment. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back when the other boy yelled out.

“I’m Kuroo,” it sounded like he had stepped outside his apartment and onto the hall, “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima walked up to his door.

“Oi! You’re supposed to say your name too!”

He turned the handle, his hand sticking up behind him with only his middle finger held high, and entered his apartment, letting the door close behind him. 

“Oi,oi,oi!” he could hear the other almost clearly now, Tsukishima could practically picture him standing behind the door as he yelled, “I’ll figure it out you know!” he could almost hear him tapping his foot, “You could just tell me! Save yourself a lot of trouble!” still Tsukishima kept his mouth shut, practically refusing to breath. 

It wasn’t until he heard the other, Kuroo, grumble as he made his way back to his apartment that Tsukishima breathed out a heavy sigh, his body finding its way back against the door as he slid his back down until his legs were stretched out in front of him. He couldn’t help but picture the way Kuroo’s arms had flexed against his chest. Pictured how his shirt had stretched across the flat expanse of his chest and how his jeans had just hugged his thighs just right. His hand slid down his chest, over his shirt until he reached the waistband of his sweats. He had been dressed so poorly, and still Kuroo had looked at him, practically devoured him with his eyes. He thought about them, those two pristine stones of obsidian, as his hand travelled past his sweats and into his boxers.  


Yeah, he was _definitely_ going to study.

 

It had been days, four to be exact, since he had ‘met’ Kuroo. He could still hear him through the walls, not singing – _thank god_ – but moving, living. He could hear when he pulled out pots and pans, heard him when he stubbed his toe or foot or probably his whole body from the shout he gave off. He heard tidbits of music from his stereo or whatever, but it was low, indistinguishable. He heard him when a friend came over, ridiculously louder than Kuroo had ever been.

It had been four days and still, _still_ Tsukishima thought about him. He thought about his voice, his skin, his smile and – _oh god – his eyes_. He thought about his piercing stare, like he was trying to learn everything about you in that one moment. He thought about his smile, how you couldn’t even classify it as a smile, more like a smirk. He thought about him above him, underneath him, between his legs, anywhere, everywhere. 

Tsukishima was studying, his headphones around his ears and a cup of tea set just above his text book, the steam curling off the liquid. He was studying and still flashes of coy lips kept jumping to the front of his mind and replacing the characters his eyes had just roamed over. This was getting ridiculous.

Tsukishima persevered. He placed strawberry marshmallows strategically along the pages, set up goals to reach with his reading and relished in the sweet taste when he met one. He ignored the knocking on his door when it came. He ignored it when it came back half an hour later but when an hour after that it came again, Tsukishima sighed and pushed himself up off the floor and towards the door as he swallowed his latest candy. He didn’t bother to check the peephole, just threw the door open, ready to get rid of his newest distraction.

“Tsukishima Kei.”

Correction, old _and_ current distraction.

“Kuroo,” Tsukishima licked his lips, catching the left over little sugar crystals with his tongue. He noted how Kuroo seemed to follow the movement with his eyes.

“Ah, don’t you think there should be a _san_ in there somewhere?” Kuroo smirked at Tsukishima, his glorious arms once again crossed over his chest. 

“So, you’re older than me?”

“Seems like it,” Kuroo raised his brows up and down, expectantly.

Tsukishima shrugged, he was nothing if not polite, “Alright, Kuroo-san,” he watched as Kuroo smiled, a real smile that lifted both corners of his mouth, Tsukishima leaned against the door, lifting his hand as though to expect his nails, “I’m surprised it took you so long.”

“Well,” Kuroo exaggerated the word, his arms uncrossing to shove his hands into the front of his pockets before he rocked back on his heels, “I couldn’t come knocking without knowing your name so…” he trailed off before shrugging his shoulders.

Tsukishima snorted, “And how’d you manage that?”

“Asked around,” Kuroo gestured around them with his head, “Finally got an answer and so here we are,” he smirked at Tsukishima, his body moving forward and closer to him. “So, I was thinking –”

Tsukishima couldn’t help the next snort to leave his mouth, “That must have been a challenge,” Tsukishima covered his mouth to hide the small smile he knew was there.

Tsukishima watched as Kuroo seemed incapable of taking his eyes off his lips, well his hand really. He only winked when he realized he had been caught before continuing as though Tsukishima hadn’t cut him off, “I was _thinking_ of those five uses,” Tsukishima watched him grin when he blushed, a kind of glint sneaking into the corner of his eyes, “And I’m sure I’ve got ‘em, wanna hear?” he moved closer until he was standing directly in front of Tsukishima.

He shrugged, “If you think you’ve figured it out.”

Kuroo smirked harder, if that was possible, “Good,” he stepped forward again, causing Tsukishima to step backwards, a protest springing to his lips when Kuroo crowded him back into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

“What do you think you’re –”

“Number five, four and three were easy, the other two, not so much,” Kuroo lifted his hand and waved his five fingers, “Number five would obviously be me serenading you.”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, “As if,” his hand came up to press against Kuroo’s chest, trying to force some semblance of space that Kuroo seemed eager to get rid of.

“Number four,” he lowered a finger, “Would be me talking, to you, specifically to you,” Kuroo kept walking them backwards until he had Tsukishima pressed up against the wall leading towards his kitchen. “Now number three, an easy one if you remember, is me kissing you.”

Tsukishima froze, his body going rigid and tense as Kuroo leaned down to breath in the same air. He parted his lips, expecting Kuroo to do just that, to kiss him, but he didn’t. He should push harder, push him away, he didn’t know this person. But where his hands were pressed against his chest and met with hard muscle, it only added to the image he had been conjuring in his head for days.

“Kissing you on your jaw,” his lips brushed at the corner of his mouth and moved to his cheek, “Kissing your cheek, your neck,” he felt Kuroo’s breath behind his ear, fanning out along his skin as his lips trailed south, “Your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, your hips, your everything,” he had moved back to Tsukishima’s ear, whispering the words against it as his hands came up and trailed over and down his chest, his abdomen, until they were hooked into the waist band of his pants.

Tsukishima swallowed the built up saliva in his mouth, his lips parting and bringing in air with heavy breaths, “And two, number two?” his voice sounded needy even to him. His fingers had curled into the material of Kuroo’s tee against his chest. His clothes were becoming tight, restricting, with Kuroo’s each word.

He chuckled against Tsukishima, like he could sense his eagerness, though, at this point anyone could, “Two,” Kuroo tightened his hold on the waist of Tsukishima’s pants, “Two would be me, sucking you off.”

Tsukishima whined, an outright whine that turned into a moan when Kuroo grazed his teeth along the column of his neck. 

He was panting, he was hard, and they both knew it. His fingers tightened in Kuroo’s shirt, the thought of tearing it passed through his mind but was quickly gone when Kuroo slotted his knee between Tsukishima’s legs. 

“Fuck,” Tsukishima gasped, his hips moving on their own as they ground down and he relished in the relief of pressure.

“Do you want to know number one?” Kuroo panted against him and Tsukishima was thankful it wasn’t just him being affected.

“Yes – _oh god_ – yes, please, _yes_ ,” Tsukishima head tilted back until he hit the wall, his eyes closing in anticipation. 

“My tongue,” Kuroo licked a stripe up the column of Tsukishima’s neck before blowing against it, causing him to shiver, “Fucking you open until you’re begging for it.”

Tsukishima moaned, loud and lewdly. He let go of Kuroo’s shirt, his hand reaching down to between his legs when his wrist was suddenly pinned above his head and against the wall. 

He heard Kuroo click his tongue, “My mouth, Tsuki, not your hand.”

It took him a minute before he could lift his head from where it rested against the wall. He had meant to look at Kuroo but his eyes caught on the coffee table, his open text book still littered with his strawberry flavoured sweets. His eyes shot to Kuroo, his pupils blown wide where he stared down at Tsukishima. It took him a minute more to weigh the decision in his mind but a particularly hard nip to the juncture between his neck and collarbone made him throw the scales right out of his mind. 

Tsukishima’s eyes glanced to the clock before using his free hand to glide along Kuroo’s back and neck before gripping the hair at the back of his head. A low groan escaped the back of Kuroo’s throat, further cementing Tsukishima’s decision.

“You’ve got twenty minutes, better put those five uses to good use.”

Tsukishima’s hand was released and the next moment two hands wrapped around his waist were pulling him flush against Kuroo. The grin that pulled at Kuroo’s lips, stretching from eye to eye only spurred on Tsukishima’s need to wet his lips.

“Good thing I only need to use three.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Titles Included:
> 
> Someone Get Tsukishima a Tall Glass Of Water
> 
> Quench Your Thirst
> 
> Put Your Mouth to Better Use


End file.
